Something happened to me at choir practice tonight.

The creation story doesn't mention music, but God created it. Music is like the wind. It is invisible yet real. You can feel it but you can't touch it or hold it. It can be gentle and it can be powerful.

Tonight I find myself having been moved by music. A song, inspired. It Is Well is an old hymn. You have most likely heard it. I grew up singing it with my fellow Baptists. I didn't really like it. The song lacks the tempo and syncopation that I normally require - something that makes me tap my foot - something with a groove.

Then, when our baby Georgia died, our dear friends sang It Is Well at her memorial service. They did a beautiful job with the song, but the sorrowful occasion turned me even more against the song. From that day till this one I have not been able to listen to the song or sing it with any amount of joy or comfort.

Hear me when I say, the song brought me no comfort. None. In fact, it often made me either sad or angry. I really could not agree with the premise that it was indeed well. I understand the man who wrote the words had endured much greater loss than I. That didn't matter to me.

Until tonight.

FBC: It Is Well With My Soul - Concord Worship from First Baptist Concord on Vimeo.

As a new member of the choir at First Baptist Concord, I was not aware that this song was in their repertoire. Then we practiced the song. Thankfully, it was arranged by Tim Paul. Classically arranged under the influence of the Holy Spirit. While we were rehearsing the song, my dread began to turn. It was simply beautiful.

And the memories of our sweet Georgia Rose swept my mind. I saw her once again lying on the kitchen table, lifeless as I pushed air into her lungs with little puffs. Again, I regretted obeying the police officer who told me to stand back. I had touched her for the last time and didn't realize it. I wish I would have told him where to go, and picked her up to hold her one last time.

But the beauty of this song and the Holy Spirit who inspired it washed away those horrible things while I sang.

It is well. It is well with my soul.

I still feel the grief, but I have been touch by the Holy Spirit of God. He has given me a measure of healing, whether great or small I cannot tell. I am ready to sing this song. Thank you LORD for music. 

God bless you,
Dadofmykids

Still, I wonder.

I wonder what my Dad would be like if he was still living. He died when I was just 5 years old. I have only a few memories of him, mostly happy times, like fishing or beating him in a foot race (I really did think I had beat him fair and square.) or driving the car while sitting in his lap.

My dad, James Kenneth Brasfield, USAF,
sometime before 1957.

My dad was only 35 years old when he died. He was a veteran of the Korean War (aka Korean Conflict) having served in the US Air Force with rank of Airman Second Class. I understand that is equal to E-3 rank, which is same as mine in the Army. (I was Private First Class). My aunts told me he was never the same after the war. I believe he may have suffered from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).

He attempted to take his life on multiple occasions before succeeding on November 5, 1973. My mother was pregnant at the time with my baby brother, Jeff. My dad had been hospitalized for treatment associated with his suicidal attempts, making some ceramic items that I recall in the attic of my childhood home.

He is buried in Little Rock National Cemetery, Section 16, Site 506, in Little Rock, Arkansas. I remember the funeral, and the twenty-one gun salute at the grave side service.

My mom remarried when I was thirteen years old, to O'Neal Hardy from Memphis. I was uncertain how my life would change as we moved from N Little Rock, Ar. to Memphis TN a week after they married. I couldn't bring myself to call him "Dad", so I called him "Pop". He's a good man and taught me many things. I am thankful for him.

That move to Memphis seriously rocked my world, set me on a path that lead to where I am today. From Memphis, I came to Knoxville where I met Jilly. I wouldn't change a thing.

Today, I called Pop on the phone to wish him a happy Father's Day.

Still, I wonder...

Happy Father's Day 2015,
Dadofmykids

I signed the petition to Deny Parole to Vanessa Coleman.

I avoided broadcasts and news when they told the details, especially the live broadcasts from the courtroom. I just can't handle the gruesomeness of the violent rapes and murders of Christopher Newsom and his girlfriend Channon Christian.

During the course of Coleman's trial for her part in the rapes and murders of Channon and Chris, evidence was presented from her diary entry dated 3 days after the murder. It read in part, “I’ve had one HELL OF AN ADVENTURE since I’ve been in the big TN. It’s a crazy world these days! But I love the fun adventures and lessons that I’ve learned. Its going to be a long interesting year! Ha! Ha!”

Here's the comment I added to the petition:

"I have eight living children. I cannot imagine how the victims' parents feel, but paroling this criminal would violate them all over again. Furthermore, rapists and murderers are the worst threats to all children and adults. If you must release someone to make room for this one, release a non-violent offender, please."

 I encourage you to sign the petition too:  Click here.

God bless,
Dadofmykids

VLOG - She'd look like a Brasfield.

Completely un-edited, single take video blog, 2013 Sept 05.

Happy Memories of Baby Georgia

Today I want to share a few precious photos of Georgia Rose.  Today marks six years since she passed.

This first photo was taken the day we brought her home.  Jill wrapped her like a burrito in this home-made crochet blanket.  Who made the blanket?  I don't remember.  Doesn't she look sweet?

Homecoming was so exciting.  Here, Jilly shows off Georgia.  It was a great day for The Brasfield Nation.  We couldn't explain why Georgia brought us so much joy.  Maybe it was because we had come out of a dark period.  You can see the happiness on Jill's face.  There's not a mother on Earth that can take care of a baby better than my Jilly.

Look how little Levi was.  That's his Aunt Sandra holding his hand.  She rightfully wanted to keep him from touching too hard.

Here we are playing cards - probably Go Fish.  Or maybe it was Crazy Eights.  I like it better than Go Fish.  I think Jilly took this photo.  After Georgia died, I was thankful that we had held her so often.

This was also taken the first day.  A few days later, I shaved my beard because I thought my whiskers might be too rough on Georgia's face.  However, I quickly grew it back.

Today, I am able to see the happiness in memories of Georgia.  Other days, memories of her death over-ride.  Please say a prayer for Jilly and me, plus our whole family, today.

God Bless,
Dadofmykids

Day 32 of #40Days - Altered State of Consciousness.

Less than a year after Georgia died, Levi got sick with a stomach bug.  Most every parent has seen this in their children, right?  Jill and I did all the usual things to treat him, including increased fluids and a trip to the doctor.

However, he got worse.  He awoke the next morning very lethargic.  He wouldn't drink anything and seemed distant.  Jill said, "something's wrong," and took him back to the doctor who sent them straight to Children's Hospital.

The hospital staff determined that he was dehydrated and eventually gave him some apple juice, which he drank.  Then he got worse suddenly.  Jill called me to come up there.  I left the kids with Mickey, my mother in law.

I remember calling my mom and our pastor.  I told them both how scary this was for me, especially because of Georgia.  The pain from her death was still so strong.  It hurts to even type this paragraph.

Jill and Levi were in the emergency department when I got there.  Nurses swarmed around him.  One of them was explaining that Levi was in an altered state of consciousness.  He was limp and unable to communicate or make eye contact.  They didn't know why.

They took blood samples and found that his blood sugar level was dangerously low.  They gave him what looked like a shot of Karo Syrup and he immediately raised up.  It took a couple days for him to come out of it, but he made a full recovery.  The doctor told us that Levi came close to dying.

The picture above is Levi shortly after this.  I took it as a sign that he was okay.  Thank God.

 Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good!

His faithful love endures forever.

Psalm 136

God bless,
Dadofmykids

This is post # 32 of Forty Days.  Learn more here.

Day 31 of #40Days - Guest Post by Jilly.

I am excited to present a guest post by my beautiful wife, Jill:

It was Christmas Day 2009, and the kids had just finished opening their gifts when Andy looked at me and said, “I don't have your present today, we have to drive to Nashville tomorrow to get it.”

I thought that was odd, but I didn't give it much thought. I assumed it was tickets to a show or dinner somewhere nice. In all honesty, I didn't care. Christmas 2009 was the worst Christmas of my life. Just one month earlier, I had laid in my daddy's hospital bed with him and watched him die. All I really wanted was for the whole holiday to just be over.

Steven and Jill.

Elvis, I mean Steven, at Sun Studios, Memphis TN.

The next day arrived and we got the kids ready and loaded up in Heapy (our huge, ugly, BROWN fifteen passenger van) and off we went. I will admit, my attitude was bad. WHY did we have to keep celebrating when I was just ready for it to be over (pity parties were a daily occurrence for a while)?

As we rolled on down the road, I spent time checking my social networking sites. I noticed that my “little brother” was very quiet and that was REALLY odd. Side note: I am an only child, but I have a few friends that I claim as my siblings. Steven, an online friend from Seattle, is the one I had chosen to be the little brother I always wanted, but never had.

Steven had shown great concern for Dad when he was sick, and has shown genuine compassion and love for us when Dad died. Unbeknownst to me, he and Andy had been plotting and planning a huge surprise for me.

As we got closer to Nashville, Steven's quietness on Facebook and Twitter began to make me wonder if we were going to Nashville to pick him up at the airport. I finally asked Andy, and he confirmed that we were. He began to tell me how this came to be. He said that Steven had been concerned about me after Dad's death and had decided to make a surprise trip to visit me hoping it would lift my spirits. I. WAS. FLOORED.! My first thoughts were how sweet it was for someone to do this for ME. I honestly couldn't remember if I had ever had anyone go to such lengths to just be able to love on me and minister to me. My next thought was OMG! I'd never met Steven in person; we had only spoken on the phone a time or two, and the rest of our communication had been online. Would it be weird? Would it be a week filled with awkward silence? All of a sudden, I became VERY nervous!

After a couple of delays, Steven's flight finally arrived. I was EXTREMELY excited and a little nervous as we watched and waited for him. Finally, there he was.......wearing his UT orange. I can honestly say there wasn't a single second of awkwardness. It was truly like we had known each other all of our lives!

We began talking non-stop almost immediately and it didn't seem like we stopped for nearly a week. We spent the week laughing, touring Memphis (Steven does a heck of an Elvis impersonation) and talking. It was a week without sadness and one that I will never forget.

Thank you, Steven, for giving so much of yourself to come all this way to support and love on me. I made memories that week that I will cherish for the rest of my life! I love you and I'm incredibly thankful that you're my little brother.

Proverbs 17:17 “A friend loves at all times.......”

God bless,
Momofmykids

This is post # 31 of Forty Days.  Learn more here.

Day 15 of #40Days - Legacy

“Have pity on me, O Lord, because I am in distress.

My eyes, my soul, and my body waste away from grief.”  

Ps. 31:9 (God’s Word Translation) 

Papaw and his namesake Georgia Rose.

Last week, I was sitting at the funeral of my wife’s grandfather.  Everybody always called him Papaw.  I knew him for over 23 years.  There were a lot of facts that I knew about Papaw.  He was a retired utility foreman and preacher.  I heard him preach twice, I think.  He loved to study the Bible and listening to J Vernon McGee on the radio.  I have listened to Dr. McGee a few times, knowing that Papaw was such a loyal listener.  My wife, Jill, speaks fondly of days spent with him.

One of Papaw's life long preacher friends delivered the message at the funeral.  That’s when I realized I didn’t know Papaw nearly as well as I thought.  I won’t try to retell the story of which I am so vaguely aware.  However, I will tell you that Papaw was a faithful man of God.  He led many people to faith in our Lord Jesus.  He set an example of passion for Christ that is simply inspiring.  Now, I think I understand why so many who loved him are grieving.

He left us a legacy.  It is a legacy of faith, hope and love.

I heard this verse today (Ps. 31:9).  The word “grief” caught my attention.  It reminded me of all we have experienced in the last few years.  It made me want to dig a little deeper, too.

About half way through Psalm Chapter 31, the despair takes a sudden and dramatic turn:

I trust you, O Lord.
I said, “You are my God.”
My future is in your hands.
Rescue me from my enemies, from those who persecute me.
Smile on me.  Vs 14-16

Trust the Lord.  Give the future to Him.  May He smile on us.  The thought of God smiling on me brings me such peace.  I hope it does the same for you.

God bless,
Dadofmykids

 Post #15 of 40 Days.  Learn more here.

This post was originally on Canvas Rhapsody Blog.

Father's Day

When my mom's boss showed up with my older brother to pick me up at the "baby sitter's", I was a little confused. At five years old, there was no way that I could have known why my mom wasn't the one.

That was the day my dad died.

The next seven years, my older brothers were the "men of the house". Don't pity me though. As much as I missed my dad, his death and absence from my life helped shape me. I am not happy in the least about his death. But I am ok with it now.

I also see how it lead to many good things in my life. If my dad hadn't died, I would have never met Jill, my wife. If I had never met Jill, I would not have my wonderful family. There would be no Tilley, our biological daughter. We would not have adopted our other kids. Where would they be today, if my dad hadn't died?

Seven years later, my mom remarried. It took me a while to really understand what a great man my new "dad" was. At the age of thirteen, I was not comfortable calling him dad. So I started calling him "Pop", like Lamont called his dad on "Sanford and Son".



Over time, "Pop" set a great example for me in many ways. I owe him a lot for where I am today. 

I have a wonderful and beautiful family.  Today is a good day to be the father of The Brasfield Nation.

God bless,
Dadofmykids.

PS.  I just got an Amazon Link.  Use it to support The Brasfield Nation.  Thanks.

Who is it? Tell me who it is.

Daniel was at work when he heard there were cops at our house. He rushed home. When he got there, he knew someone had died. He simply said, "Who is it? Tell me who it is."

I said, "Georgia".

The next four kids, by age, had spent the night with my mother-in-law. When they got home, I had to tell them, too. "I have some very bad news about Georgia," I said. "She went to sleep and didn't wake up. I tried to wake her, but she's gone. Her little spirit is in Heaven with Jesus now."

This scene from March 10-11, 2006, replayed in my head while I was driving to work today. I didn't ask for it, expect it, or even want it. But there it was. Emotion and everything.

I have worried that I had become too numb to feel that anymore. But I am grateful to know that my heart is still tender enough.

It is sad, I know. But, the story doesn't end there. My life didn't end with Georgia's life. I survived. We survived. You will survive.

The Hope of Eternal Life in Jesus Christ, and my beautiful wife and eight remaining children kept me going. Time has allowed the wound to heal. I am scarred.

Life is full of change. Good and bad. Be encouraged. You will heal in time.